Forever May They Reign
by NeoVenus22
Summary: The only constant was his family. Takes place after the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. Complete.


Disclaimer: No one mentioned belongs to me. Spoilers for LWW.

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The train rumbled and rattled its way down the tracks. Susan had been fighting a battle with sleep for the better part of an hour, and it seemed as though she had finally lost, her head falling suddenly, softly, on Peter's shoulder, like a bird taking perch.

Peter's shoulder stiffened as the journey progressed, but he remained immobile for fear of waking her. Too many nights he'd passed by her room at a late hour to see light still flickering beneath the door. He worried she was working too hard and losing perspective, forgetting to balance her studies with other important things, like sleep, or fun. Then again, never had Susan met a love as great as her books. Queen Susan the Gentle could claim any number of suitors, but she had dismissed them in all turn, and never taken a King-consort. Peter's relief, he thought, stemmed from the pride that she put the well-being of Narnia above her own intimate desires. He liked to think he'd done the same, never himself marrying.

Susan snored slightly and Peter stifled laughter. It was behavior hardly becoming for an English schoolgirl or a queen of Narnia, but perfect for a younger sister. His memory flickered, his mind strained, trying to call up the mental image of the woman he knew Susan would one day be, all regal, elegant grace, a sharp wit, a force to be reckoned with on an archery field. Time held increasingly less meaning for a royal of Narnia. Decades at Cair Paravel had made the memory of the war-torn London he'd left behind distant and vague, as a dream, and one year shuttling back and forth from Finchley and school made Narnia seem quite imaginary. Fencing skills at school and his reputation as a natural leader were the remaining evidence of his time as High King; that, and the continued reminiscing of Edmund and Lucy.

Each world seemed fantastical in comparison to wherever he was, each seemed just beyond the realm of what was possible when he was firmly mired in one or the other. The only constant was his family. Dreamy Lucy, mischievous Edmund, and beautiful, brainy, bookish Susan. Obsessed with thinking about things "logically." Peter smiled at nothing. His boring old Su.

As though subconsciously aware she was being thought of, Susan stirred. She lifted her head without acknowledgment of what it had been resting on, yawned and stretched with uncommon grace. "Hmm, are we there yet?"

"You sound like Lu," he said.

Susan eyed him critically, quite awake. "Why are you smiling like that?"

Peter's grin was fat with a juicy secret. "You snore."

"I do not," huffed Susan, positively affronted.

"You do."

"Take that back."

"Her Majesty Queen Susan, the Gentle, Empress of the Lone Islands, Lady of Cair Paravel, fair of face and tender of spirit, revered archer, snorer extraordinaire."

Susan giggled in the disbelieving way that suggested she was torn between amusement and anger. "Stop it."

"Have I offended her Majesty's delicate sensibilities? Tarnished her good name?"

The mirth in Susan's face was replaced with something else, a concern, flooding her slowly. "Peter."

"Yes?" he said, voice still tinged with laughter.

"It's one thing when we're with Ed and Lu, but..." She chewed her lip as she chose her words. Peter felt his good humor fading. "This Narnia thing... I don't think we should be doing it anymore. Don't you think we're a bit too old?"

Peter averted his gaze to the scenery trundling by the window. His boring old Su, quick to cast aside the world she'd never quite believed in. The one that defied her precious logic. Never mind that there they'd been happy and safe, with few worries. A family. Together.

"Are you sure about that?" he tried. "Because a stodgy old queen mother fits the bill quite nicely for you, Su."

Susan huffed dramatically and pressed herself into the seat, arms folded across her chest in quite the sulk. "You're incorrigible."

"And what am I in the Latin?" he mocked. She said nothing. And there went the rest of his good mood, lost in guilt and frustration. "It's just for fun," he said, grateful Edmund and Lucy were not there to hear him say that. Even if, a little bit, he believed it to be true. "It keeps Edmund and Lucy from thinking about Dad too much. You don't want to depress them, do you?"

She rolled her eyes. He recognized the expression, one he saw more often than she'd ever admit, knowing Peter was quite right, but refusing to acknowledge it for fear of stroking his ego or damaging her own. "I suppose not," she conceded, then eyed him critically. "But don't you worry that being childish like this will stunt them emotionally?"

"They'll grow up when it's required of them," he said carefully. He thought 'childish' was a rather harsh term. They were, after all, children, and for that matter, ones who were intelligent for their age and quite emotionally mature, in his opinion. Squabbles aside, they were loyal and loving, knew right from wrong. Their mother credited Peter and summering in the country for their upbringing, but Peter knew it was Narnia.

It was harder and harder to remember it now. Peter's brain was rapidly becoming consumed with studies and sporting matches, balancing school and caring for his family. But that was the mark Narnia had left on him, like delighting Lucy's imagination and testing Susan's smarts, it had made them into adults, shown Peter and Edmund how to be men. It had shown Peter just to what extent he'd go in order to save his family. Their safety was paramount: from warring border lands; from ambitious suitors who would not take no for an answer; from each other; from himself.

He pressed his lips to Susan's forehead, a gesture that grew more and more futile as the months passed. She was not the sort who was comfortable with such displays of affection from her older brother. It was probably just as well; the Susan he meant to kiss no longer existed, a Susan who laughed more and had moments of frivolity and imagination. He wondered if her desperation to be mature was gapping the younger Pevensies from the eldest, and was forcing Peter to forgo whatever magic had brought Narnia to him. He wasn't sure he liked it. He knew absolutely he wished adulthood hadn't wrenched his sister from him. "Let's just let Ed and Lu be Ed and Lu, all right?" he said softly, a peace offering. "They'll grow out of it when they need to."

They grew up as a matter of necessity. Narnia had transformed them into regals, men and women of extraordinary grace and wisdom. Perhaps that had been the mark left on Susan, the urging into adulthood. Peter could not begrudge her a gift from Narnia.

The look Susan gave him was studious to the point of invasive. As though she was seeing something no one else could ever dream of, a notion that made him squirm. "You're a very good brother, Peter Pevensie."

"As a sister, you're not half-bad, yourself," he answered, making a silly face at her until she smiled. "Even if you don't want to be, Su, you're still a queen to us," he pronounced seriously, squeezing her hand. He was rewarded with a smile, the bashful sort she'd been powerless to control when a suitor had said something terribly flattering. Peter flushed to think he was in the same league, to be as worthy in her eyes as she was in his.

"We've got a good hour left," he said of their trip. "Go back to sleep, all right? And try not to snore."

"I do not snore," she said haughtily, pressing into the corner of the bench and settling an open book in her lap. His boring old Su, Peter thought fondly, but she tossed a mischievous smile at him over the top of her pages, and he felt a rush of relief.


End file.
